


bad habits (i do em all for you)

by nymphe



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Come Eating, Coming Untouched, Hand & Finger Kink, Hand Jobs, Humiliation, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Rimming, Sex Toys, Situational Humiliation, Size Kink, Under-negotiated Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-14
Updated: 2015-11-14
Packaged: 2018-05-01 13:46:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5208122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nymphe/pseuds/nymphe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>wherein: stiles is sexually frustrated, stiles gets a vibrator stuck in his ass, stiles calls derek to help him with it, there's some kink discovery, a few orgasms, and some feelings. yep, that's about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	bad habits (i do em all for you)

**Author's Note:**

> i.....don't really know what to tag this, so if y'all need/suggest a certain tag i will tag it. can be read as underage or as of age so i've tagged it underage just in case. this was all written on my phone and without a beta so please let me know if there's anything i need to fix that i'm not seeing!! additional tag notes at the end.

Stiles has probably had the most sexually-frustrating past six months of his entire fucking _life_. He hasn't had the time or energy to jerk off properly, like he's about to, with the house to himself, his phone off, his friends all busy, and with at least a few hours to himself, for months now. He hasn't had time to jerk off _at all_ in the past two weeks, running around doing vaguely life-endangering things for the pack, covering for Scott when he's running around doing vaguely life-endangering things for the pack, sleeping on every horizontal surface he can in some effort to catch up on a year's worth of sleep in the rare-and-always-getting-rarer downtime, and squeezing in homework. 

And it's not just never having alone time that's sexually frustrating: it's hanging out with a group of beautiful people who are for the most part all paired up with and always making out with each other _right in front of him_. It's being on extended stakeouts in cramped locations with Derek Hale, like, twice a week, when Derek has a tendency to throw him (with his _body_ ) up against walls and lockers and doors and look fucking gorgeous while he's doing it.

He only really gets the opportunity to break out the good lube and his dildo and moan without biting his pillow to muffle the noise every couple of weeks, when his dad goes out to the local cop bar with his buddies or goes out of town for a conference, and there's no big bad monster of the week trying to murder him and his friends. 

So this time, when his dad has just left the house and Stiles knows he has at least a good three or four hours before there's even a _chance_ he'll come back, and somehow simultaneously there's no monster in town actively trying to eat him alive, he knows he's going to take advantage of it, whip out his new dildo and try the vibrating function out for the first time. He's already so worked up just thinking about the orgasm he knows he's not even going to need porn to get him to that point; he's just going to need his dildo and some good old, trusty dirty thoughts.

(If the dirty thoughts happen to be about a certain Alpha he knows, that'll be between him and his conscience.)

And ten minutes of pent-up sexual frustration later, he knows this is going to be his best, and probably fastest, orgasm _ever_. 

And he's not wrong. The orgasm is so good Stiles nearly screams when it hits him, arching his back and shoving the vibrator in as hard against his prostate as he can with his pleasure-weak hands. His cum is hot against his stomach where his cock jerks, completely untouched. His whole body shakes with the force of it and he's left gasping and thrashing against the bed, fingers clenching and unclenching in his sweat-damp sheets. 

He keeps the vibe against his prostate for as long as he can stand it, drawing it out until he hits a second climax, hips undulating in an attempt to fuck down onto the source of the pleasure, moaning and practically melting into the bed.

He doesn't black out, but it's a close thing: he goes all fuzzy and pliant, losing himself in it in a way that leaves him feeling like he's lost an entire hour when it's probably only been, like, two minutes. It's fucking _amazing_.

When he stops shaking enough to reach between his legs to pull the dildo out, he realizes immediately, and in a fucking panic, that the vibe dial is just at the edge of his rim, but there's not enough handle sticking out for him to get a firm grip on to pull it out.

There's just enough of it sticking out that he's nervous if he tried to push it out it would backfire and get pushed completely in, and he can't sit up or move in the slightest without risking the rest of it slipping in either. 

He sighs, rolling gently over onto his side to reach his phone on his nightstand. 911 is completely out of the question - there's _no way_ he's going to the hospital over this, and there's no way he's calling anyone if there's even a slight chance they'll inform his dad about this. He scrolls through his contact list, but he already knows, the list of people he's even remotely comfortable with seeing him in this state is short. Like, one person short, and that one person is still a, "well, maybe the hospital isn't _completely_ out of the question?" sort of option.

On the plus side, the initial humiliation of realizing he's going to have to call _Derek_ to help him get his dildo out of his ass is kind of overshadowed by how fucking good he feels from that orgasm. It's kind of hard to be embarrassed when he's just had the best orgasm of his entire life, honestly. 

He's definitely anxious, because no fucking way is he interested in being one of those weird people who has to go to the hospital because they got a sex toy stuck up their own ass, but he still feels like he's glowing a little bit, in a non-supernatural way. 

That could be due to the fact that he hasn't been able to turn the fucking thing off, and every vibration feels like it's been dragging out his orgasm so he's in one long, infinite climax.

He's sure Derek's witnessed worse things, anyway, which is the factor that stops his finger from hovering over the little green call button long enough to actually press it.

Derek's voice is gruff when he answers, and it sets Stiles off shaking again, thinking about that voice whispering dirty things to him. The vibe is still buzzing away on the highest setting inside of him - he's too nervous to try to turn the dial off in case he manages to push it in any further. Combined with the thought of Derek's sleep-rough voice it's almost enough to edge him into another orgasm and he fucking whimpers, trying to ignore the pleasure long enough to get actual words out.

"This had better be a life-or-death emergency, Stiles," Derek says, and fuck, Stiles never thought anger would be his thing, but it's hard not to imagine being put over Derek's knees and spanked and fingerfucked when Derek's voice sounds like _that_. Was spanking a thing for him before? Because it definitely is now.

"Non supernatural," he manages, voice quivering a little, but it still sounds better than the wanton moan he's holding back. "But I could use a hand."

"Can it wait until the sun's up?"

"Don't act like you weren't still awake," Stiles says, shifting slightly and turning his head to gasp away from his phone when the vibe nudges a sensitive spot inside of him. "Derek."

Stiles isn't sure what Derek's hearing in his voice, but it must sound urgent enough to get his attention. "Are you home? Are you _hurt_?"

"Yes I'm home, and only if you're counting my dignity. Which by the time you get here is going to be completely fucking decimated."

"Is your dad home?"

Stiles laughs, then moans (then flushes, because Derek probably, definitely heard that) when it makes the vibe move inside of him. "No, thank god."

"Do I need to bring reinforcements?"

"I would seriously rather you not. Just for the sake of being able to immediately forget this has ever happened."

Derek growls, and the sound of it goes straight to Stiles' dick. "I'll be there in ten minutes."

"Please," he whispers, trying not to let it come out as the pathetic cry he wants to let out, "need you."

He hangs up after that, and loses track of time a little bit, trying his hardest to just _not move at all_ because the overstimulation is about to make him cry and this is already going to be awkward enough without him bawling like a baby.

The next thing he knows Derek is growling outside of his window, flinging it open like he's expecting someone to be brutally murdering Stiles - which, by his pained moans and weak little whimpers is actually probably the most obvious conclusion to jump to, considering what they're used to.

It becomes obvious that's not the case when approximately three seconds later Derek gets a whiff of the come-and arousal-permeated air. It also helps that Stiles is still completely naked and come-covered on his bed, having made no attempt to cover himself because modesty at this point is an unfunny joke he wants no part of.

"Jesus," Derek says, looking slightly bewildered. His jaw is slack for a millisecond before it clenches, and his eyebrows are furrowed downward in a way that is somewhere between confusion, concentration, and frustration. It's one of the sexiest faces Derek's ever made and it's sort of giving him a complex. What doesn't give him a complex these days. "You could have given me some warning."

Stiles laughs again, a little manically at this point. "Fucking sorry, I was kind of preoccupied with the _six inches of vibrating dick-shaped silicone currently stuck in my asshole_. Are you going to help me or not?"

"Why wasn't your first thought to go to the hospital?"

"Uh. The same hospital Scott's mom works at? And it's not like I'm capable of _driving_ in my current condition here. In case you missed it. The six inches of vibrating dick-shaped silicone, that is."

"Somehow that did not seem to escape my attention," Derek mutters after a quiet moment, and his gaze is stuck between Stiles' thighs where the vibe is still tucked away, making him squirm, feeling totally exposed and vulnerable and, for some fucking reason, super turned on. Apparently humiliation and exhibitionism are a combination that's doing it for him, now. Great to know.

Stiles' face is cherry-red and there's come drying on his stomach, and his asshole is starting to feel raw and sore in a way that feels like he's just been fucked long and hard by a nice fat dick, and these are all thoughts he doesn't want to have while Derek is still staring at him in that flustered, wild, 'big bad wolf' type of way.

Derek takes a step closer, eyes flickering between the lube by his pillow and Stiles' spread thighs. "Do you think you can turn over onto your stomach for me, Stiles?"

Stiles makes a valiant attempt to do so, but when he brings his legs together the vibe moves a little and he cries out, half-hard cock twitching against his stomach when it hits his prostate and sends tingles down his spine.

"I might come if I do that," Stiles says, gritting his teeth against the shockwave of pleasure rolling through him, face getting redder, and his eyes are starting to water between the stimulation and the humiliation.

Derek's eyes go dark. "Spread your legs for me, then. Get comfortable. I'm going to wash my hands. I'll be right back."

Stiles flushes harder, heart skipping several beats at once hearing Derek tell him to spread his legs for him. That's a thought that's going straight to his spank bank, assuming he can ever jerk off again after this. He spreads his legs as wide as he can, slowly, trying not to move the vibe too much. The last thing he wants to do is come unexpectedly with Derek's face between his thighs - Derek may _actually_ kill him if that happens.

When Derek comes back, his eyes are glowing Alpha red, and he's staring at Stiles' thighs in a way that makes him feel like Derek may be about to eat him up.

Derek closes and locks Stiles' bedroom door and window, dropping the blinds. He crosses over to the bed and kneels on the end of the mattress, crawling forward until he settles on his knees between Stiles' shaking hips.

"Hand me the lube," Derek says, laying a heavy hand on Stiles' inner thigh to push it up and get a better look. 

Stiles does so, gingerly, because Derek's hand on his thigh has him shuddering and scared he might come on accident. 

He has a feeling he's going to be feeling like that a lot until Derek leaves.

Derek pops the cap on the bottle and lubes up three of the fingers on the hand not holding his thigh down. Now's the time Stiles closes his eyes - the visual of Derek lubing up his fingers, knowing he's about to have them around and probably in his ass has him about to moan. Maybe having a guy you jerked off to half an hour ago help you get a dildo unstuck out of your ass wasn't one of Stiles more brilliant ideas, but it's not like he was going to call Scott or his dad, and who else in his supernatural/supernaturally hot circle of friends could he call? 

No matter how brilliant and beautiful Lydia is, this is not something he's about to ask her to help him with, thanks. He'll call her when he needs help with his calculus homework. Scott's an automatic no when it comes to the bedroom; Allison, Boyd and Isaac are too precious and innocent to traumatize like this, and he doesn't know or trust anyone else in their group enough to feel comfortable asking any of them to do this for him.

"Do you trust me?" Derek asks, almost as if he's just been reading his thoughts (and why does it always feel like that around Derek, like he knows Stiles too well), bringing his lubed up hand to hover around Stiles' hole.

"I called _you_ for a reason, Der." The heat of Derek's hand so close to his asshole has him wanting to open his eyes to watch, but he knows that may be a dangerous thing to do when his cock has started twitching against his stomach again.

"Then _relax_. Talk to me. It'll make it easier for you if you're thinking about something else."

Stiles tries to relax, unclenching around the vibe and letting his hips fall open a little more. It feels really good to do what Derek tells him to, in a tummy-butterfly, too-fast heartbeat type of way, and there's probably a reason behind that feeling that he doesn't want to linger on for too long because that way leads to madness.

"I'll go slow, but tell me if you're uncomfortable with anything."

Stiles scoffs, turning his head into his pillow. This whole situation is uncomfortable, but he trusts Derek to touch him like this.

He just wishes he could have Derek like this under non-emergency circumstances. He wants to feel Derek's fingers in him for reasons other than helping him remove a vibrator he got stuck in him because he came so hard thinking about Derek fucking him.

"This is the first time I've ever used it," Stiles says, trying - and mostly failing - not to clench up again when he feels Derek's fingertips rub gently around his rim, getting him lube-wet to hopefully make pulling the dildo out easier. "The vibrator function, anyway. I've had it for like three months but now was the first time I've tried the vibrator."

Derek growls again, pads of his fingers just beginning to press against the vibe, trying to wiggle it back and forth a little. "Talk about something else, Stiles."

Stiles gasps a little when Derek wiggles the dildo again and accidentally bumps against his prostate. "Oh, hey, I aced a pop quiz in Chem today."

"That's good," Derek grunts, and then one second later he gets his arm under the backs of Stiles' knees and bends him in half. Shockingly, Stiles feels the dildo start to slip out of him a little, and the slight friction makes him let out a harsh little sob. The move also ends up being a little counterproductive, because Stiles' body clenches up like it doesn't want to let the dildo out.

Then Derek does probably the worst thing he could possibly do - with the little bit of extra length he just got from that maneuver, he grips the dial between his thumb and finger and starts to _twist_ the vibe, full rotating little thrusts that start stimulating Stiles all over again. He presses a hand against his stomach and feels the outline of the dildo moving inside of him and -

"Oh, fuck," he moans, "turn it off, Der, please turn it off." The pressure of it moving inside of him combined with the heavy weight of Derek holding him down by his thighs has him seriously worried he's going to shoot off again, even though his dick is only half hard and still untouched.

Derek makes a motion like he's attempting to turn the dial off, but it's obvious it's still not far enough out of him to do that, because instead of _just_ the dial turning, the whole fucking thing moves inside of him, and Stiles has to bite back a deafening scream.

"Jesus," Derek growls. He looks fucking _defeated_ , panting a little, eyes still bright red. "So fucking _tight_ , Stiles, you need to relax if you want me to get this thing out of you any time soon."

Then Derek gets this bright, dangerous look in his eyes, like he's just come up with a plan that might end up being Stiles' demise.

Stiles, of course, is not wrong. In the next second Derek dips his head and that's all the warning - if you could call it that - Stiles gets before Derek _licks_ at his hole stretched tight around the dial.

Two things immediately happen: first, Stiles finds out rimming is a thing he's going to fucking _love_ under any circumstances - because this is just a night for Stiles to do some serious and accidental kink-discovering, apparently. And second, Derek's plan to get him to relax seems to work - in a way. Stiles starts convulsing, thighs literally quivering and hole clenching and unclenching until he goes loose and limp and pliant like a fucking doll. He's a little surprised that he doesn't come.

"Oh, shit," Stiles whines, "Shi -" He moves his hips a little counter productively, considering the original mission here was to get it _out_ , but it feels so good, and Derek looks like he's in the same boat, ready to just start hammering him with it once he gets a good grip, rather than taking it out. 

Derek keeps licking around his hole, getting him good and wet and soft until Stiles can't move a muscle in his fucking body let alone clench up again. Derek growls with his face against his ass and the vibrations multiply, and Stiles needs to come again, needs to pay his poor, neglected cock some due attention, but he doesn't have any energy left, fucked out and full and _so goddamn wet_. All he feels like doing is melting into the mattress and letting Derek fuck the orgasm out of him.

"I think I can turn it off now," Derek says, hair mussed and chin wet with spit, looking like it would seriously hurt him to shut it off but willing to do so if Stiles needs it.

Stiles moans, relieved, but also a little disappointed. He thinks he might be able to stand it long enough to come again, and Jesus he wants to, so bad, but he's not sure where the boundaries are here, if that's crossing a line or if Derek would want to see him come.

He lets out another, weak, watery little cry. "Can I come, please, please lemme come first, Der," he moans, and his face feels wet and he's not sure if it's just sweat or if he's started crying.

Derek groans, leans up to press a soft, affectionate little kiss to Stiles' hipbone. His stubble against Stiles' sweat-slick skin tingles, reminds him of where Derek's mouth just was and makes him desperate to feel it on him again.

He feels Derek's knuckles against his hole as he gets a grip on the dial of the vibe. "God, you're gorgeous like this, begging for me to let you come, so _slutty_."

Oh, good, apparently praise and "slut" are two more kinks he can add to his ever-growing list of newly discovered kinks, he thinks, as he moans low in his throat, feeling soft and perfect and oddly syrup-y.

Stiles arches his back a little, shoving his ass down against Derek's hand right when Derek wriggles a finger inside of him alongside the dildo - probably to help guide it out - but in his current state all Stiles can think of is Derek, and his fingers, and his fingers being _in his ass_.

He can feel Derek's finger slide inside him, between the dildo and his overstimulated hole, and all he wants is for Derek to pull the dildo out and replace it with his fingers, pound him with them until he's crying and coming again and again.

Derek pulls his finger out and Stiles starts shivering, right on the edge of orgasm again. He has to turn his face into the pillow and moan wetly to keep from screaming at Derek to put his finger back in him. 

Jesus, Derek was right when he called him a slut, reduced to crying just from one of Derek's thick, calloused fingers inside of him.

"Shh," Derek says, and his voice is way too soft and reassuring for Stiles right now. He presses more of those too-sweet kisses to his stomach, glides two fingers wet and smooth back in him alongside the dildo. "You're doing so good for me, baby, just come for me and I'll take it out. You're almost there, I can feel it, God, your heart's beating so fast, I bet it feels so good inside of you, doesn't it?"

Those little stomach kisses and the pet name, Derek's fingers wet inside of him, pressing lightly against his walls, the vibrator still on and buzzing against his prostate and the memory of Derek's stubble on the fucked-raw rim of his hole are what finally break him. He comes again, shaking and gasping and crying, his cock barely spurting any come at all at this point but the orgasm even more intense for it being mostly-dry.

He definitely blacks out this time, limbs and muscles going relaxed in a way that only happens with semi-unconsciousness.

Derek's fingers are back around his rim, pushing lube into his stretched-out hole. With this last, physically exhausting orgasm and state of semi-unconsciousness comes a looseness that, combined with the lube around his hole, is making the dildo slide out with a relieving and disappointing ease.

(Disappointing because even as used and open as his ass feels, he loves the friction and fullness of having something inside him, loved how it had felt when he was thrusting it inside himself earlier, the drag of silicone against his raw hole making it feel like what he imagines a real cock inside him would feel like. Even in his mostly unconscious state he's realizing he's going to be a huge slut for dick in him. Is that a kink? Because if it is he will gladly put that on the list.)

Derek manages to pull it out slowly to not further irritate Stiles' poor, oversensitive asshole, but he keeps the vibrator on the whole time while he's dislodging it so that the vibrations drag against his walls with every inch it slides out, making him tremble through the greatest aftershocks he will probably ever experience in his life.

(But he'll be damned if this whole overstimulation, multi-orgasming, orgasm semi-denial experience thing doesn't have him thinking dreamily about buying one of those moderately terrifying fucking-machines and testing how many times he can come in one night in the future.)

He wants to thank Derek - for the help or the orgasm, he's not sure - but he can't even speak, he's so fucked out, his voice completely wrecked from all the moaning and screaming he's done tonight. All he can do is pant, shaking every couple of minutes as his body works through the last of the aftershocks.

Everything goes back to that dreamy, fuzzy state for a while, where he doesn't really fully experience anything but pure exhaustion and contentedness. He lays there, listening to the sudden quiet that fills the room now that he's not producing his very own low grade porno soundtrack from his mouth. He hears the buzzing shut off after a few minutes, Derek seemingly having forgotten about the dildo on the bed once he'd removed it from Stiles' ass.

"Thanks," he finally manages, after what's probably ten minutes of him just trying to regain a steady heartbeat and normal breathing pattern. 

He's a little surprised Derek hasn't booked it already. 

Maybe he shouldn't be. Derek leans up to kiss him closed-mouthed and tentative a minute later, and he can feel Derek's dick hard through his jeans against his thigh where he's pressed against him. "How are you feeling?"

He leans up to kiss Derek again, a little firmer just in case Derek was having any doubts. "Really tired, but also really fucking good," he whispers, lifting a shaky hand to hover near where Derek's cock is nearly busting the zipper open on his jeans. "Want me to...?" He asks, like he's just willing to return a favor, like a bro helping a bro out in a come-inducing way, not like he's absolutely desperate to get his hands on Derek's pulsing dick, find out for himself how hot and thick and heavy it'll feel in his palm.

"Only if you want to," Derek says, sounding a little strained, like he definitely wants it but would willingly take a cold shower if Stiles didn't want to jerk him off. Stiles scoffs. As _if_ he wouldn't want to touch Derek's dick - who wouldn't want to touch Derek's dick? In what universe, what weird parallel timeline, would Stiles _not_ want to touch this gorgeous, brilliant man's dick? 

"I really _really_ want to. I'd want you to fuck me if my ass didn't currently feel like I just got fisted by a jackhammer for six hours straight. I definitely owe you a blowjay at the very least. But in the morning when I can feel my limbs again."

Derek kisses him again, smiling, pressing his body against him, and Stiles runs his hand over the outline of Derek's hard dick through the denim, pops the button and unzips his jeans with clumsy fingers. Derek's heavy, full cock falls out of the zipper as soon as it's open, because apparently Derek went commando, and Stiles gets his hands on it immediately, mouth watering and fingers light and dancing over the flesh.

He gets a firm grip on Derek's cock, like how he'd touch himself, wraps his legs around Derek's hips and then kisses his shoulder, tugging at his cock and pulling his hips down into his to get some friction going, careful to avoid his own dick. 

Derek's breath is warm in the crook of his neck, and he grinds his hips down into the cradle of Stiles' hips, dirty, so dirty, Stiles can't wait for Derek to fuck him just like this.

It only takes a couple more minutes once he gets a good rhythm going, and then Derek's growling and tensing like he's about to shift, teeth sharp but not fanged where he bites Stiles' neck, his thick, gorgeous dick pulsing in his palm as Stiles' milks the come out of it.

Derek comes a lot, which Stiles thinks might be a wolfy thing. It's hot where it shoots up to his chest, pools on his lower stomach, drips down into his pubes and in the crease where his thigh and hip meet, and there's still a puddle of it in his palm when he drags his hand up Derek's dick to collect what had dribbled down it. He pulls his arm up from where it's crushed between their bodies slowly so he doesn't lose any of it and then licks at his palm tentatively, tasting Derek's come. It's a little bitter, but the noise Derek makes when he opens his eyes and catches Stiles kitten-licking a pool of come in his hand is so wrecked and beautiful that Stiles moans and licks his hand clean like Derek's come is ambrosia.

"Tomorrow when my dad leaves for work you're coming over and we're writing a eulogy for my virginity, got it, big guy?"

Stiles can feel it when Derek laughs into his neck, collapsed on top of him. "You're going to be insatiable, aren't you?"

"So I read online that werewolves have really good stamina..." 

Derek gives him a teasing little nip to the neck, almost like he's a puppy. "Go to sleep and I promise you'll find out firsthand in the morning."

Like Stiles is going to be able to sleep now, when all he can think about is the vibrating plug he has sitting in his wishlist, and the Wikipedia entry on werewolf knots.

(He's _definitely_ going to get the answer on that one in the morning.)

**Author's Note:**

> under-negotiated kink is more "accidental kink discovery" but there's no tag for that; there's not really any kink in this, it's mostly stiles fantasizing and accidentally discovering kinks. humiliation/situational humiliation is consensual/there's no getting around it here folks, this is a story about stiles getting a vibrator stuck in his ass and having to call Derek for help, which is inherently humiliating, but stiles discovers humiliation is a-okay on his train. light Dom/sub is because stiles has a few subby feelings that are discussed. no Dom/sub play.


End file.
